


The Talking Guitar

by AndyWBlackstorn



Series: Through Chrissie's eyes (alternative universe) [18]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Through Chrissie's eyes, kind of crack, through Chrissie's eyes verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 06:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19078993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndyWBlackstorn/pseuds/AndyWBlackstorn
Summary: Jimmy has a difficult task to fulfill, and  he ends up receiving some very unusual help because of it. (it happens in the universe of Through Chrissie's eyes)





	The Talking Guitar

Jimmy felt lost and afraid, even though he knew where he was. He'd seen that place so many times, but he'd never imagined it to be there. In fact, he thought it was rather ... wrong to be there. This was his father's place, not his, yet his father couldn't attend, he was sick for a long time, and no one knew when he would recover. But Queen couldn't be without a guitarist while they waited. Uncle Freddie and Uncle Roger had insisted so much that Jimmy couldn't deny, even if he didn't want to accept it. Now it was too late, now he would have to face the fear and the gaze of thousands of people who wanted him to play just like his father. It was then that gulping, he began to prepare to face the enormous challenge of making a Queen show as their temporary guitarist.

Holding the Red Special with a mixture of awe and familiarity, he placed it carefully beneath his leg, beginning to unleash the reeds to tune the strings.

"Hey Jimmy!"

Someone called the boy, he turned to see if there was someone, he looked the other way and saw that he was really alone. It could only be a joke, it must have been Mike or Rory trying to make him even more nervous.

"Jimmy, here!" The voice called again, and young May realized the voice was too close to him.

He turned again to see who it was, and once again saw that he was alone.

"I'm talking to you!"

Stopping to pay more attention, that voice had the timbre that reminded him of the voice of a robot, even of the Daleks, no, it was something else. It was the tone of a guitar and not some guitar, the Red Special. Jimmy just stared at the instrument in his hands, stunned.

"I think you understand now!" said the guitar, said if this really was happening.

"You are talking to me?!" the boy said in a voice that was squeaked with fright.

"Yeah, I know it's weird to you," Red Special mused, "but I always talk when it's necessary."

"But," Jimmy stammered, still frightened. "Dad never said you could talk."

"Because it was our secret," the guitar clarified. "Ah, your father, my old friend and co-creator, I remember the first time we played together, he was so amazed ..."

"Yeah, I know the story," Jimmy said impatiently, "but why are you talking to me now?"

"That's because I have to," the guitar said helpfully, "you're so nervous that I need to make sure everything's all right."

"But I'm not as talented as him," Little May lamented.

"You dont have to worry, just do what you know how to do and leave the rest to me," offered Red Special excitedly.

"Okay," Jimmy finally decided to accept all the madness.

"Come on, Jimmy, we'll get started," his Uncle Freddie had called and he stood in his position on the stage.

"Hi, Jimmy." He saw Louisa approaching. with Emily holding her hand. "We wish you good luck."

"Thank you, Lou," said Jimmy and the Red Special at the same time, which startled the girls.

"What happened to your voice?" asked Louisa.

"It wasn't Jimmy, that's me," Red Special said, "hi to you, Emily and Louisa."

"It's a talking guitar!" Emily pointed out, very frightened.

"Yeah, I know but ..." Jimmy didn't know what to say, just sat on his bed and screamed, opening his eyes at once "Oh my God!" Jimmy gasped, looking frantically around him, watching the dark surroundings, recognizing the silhouettes of his bedroom furniture. "It was just a weird dream ..." Jimmy realized, speaking out loud.

The light from his room lit up and staring at the door, he saw his parents extremely worried.

"Jimmy, is everything okay?" His mother was the first to ask, already checking if he wasn't sick or something.

"You screamed, didn't you?" His father has deduced " you had a nightmare?"

"I don't know if I can call it a nightmare, but it wasn't a quiet dream either," he told Chrissie and Brian. "I dreamed I had to play in Daddy's place at a Queen show and Red Special started talking to me."

"Red Special talking?" Brian screwed up when he heard this. "Speaking like ... a person? What a bizarre thing ... Maybe it would speak with the modulations, but not as a person ..."

"It spoke like a person, but the voice had a guitar sound, but it didn't even have the mouth to speak." Jimmy winced as he remembered.

"Okay, Jimmy." Chrissie touched the boy's face affectionately. "It was just a dream, son, it's over."

"I know, Mom, but it was so weird it scared me," Jimmy insisted.

"And if I stay here with you, until you sleep?" his mother offered "are you going to be more comfortable trying to sleep again if I stay here?"

"Yes, thank you, Mom." He felt relieved.

"All right then, good night again, Jimmy," his father wished and smiled.

"Good night, Dad," Jimmy answered and Brian left.

Chrissie straightened herself at the head of the bed and Jimmy laid his head on her lap.

"Oh my God ..." she whispered softly, which caught her son's attention.

"What is it Mom?" Jimmy looked up to ask.

"It's a little ironic that you're scared of the Red Special, since Red Special were your first words," Chrissie explained.

"I know, but it has nothing to do with the dream." Jimmy was a little sulky.

"Oh, my love, I'm sorry." His mother felt that she had upset her son.

Distractedly, she began humming "Doing All Right," which both Chrissie and Jimmy loved. Although the song had Red Special in its composition, the simple interpretation of his mother was enough to make him fall asleep again.


End file.
